


Next Door

by courtts



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, inappropriate use of neckties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-07 18:18:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10366584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/courtts/pseuds/courtts
Summary: Akaashi Keiji has reached a certain level of notoriety in his dinky apartment complex, and it has everything to do with the boisterous man he brings home every night.He cares more about it than he lets on.





	

**Author's Note:**

> (bokuaka's beginning to grow on me with these new manga chapters)

Akaashi Keiji has reached a certain level of notoriety in his dinky apartment complex, and it has everything to do with the boisterous man he brings home every night.

Akaashi is a good neighbor. He pays his rent on time and keeps his apartment tidy. He doesn't watch loud TV, sing in the shower, or play a musical instrument. In fact, he's not even home most of the time, spending most of the day on his university campus. And most importantly, when he comes home at night, he would like to think he keeps the volume down when getting intimate.

His boyfriend, on the other hand, is the exact opposite.

As soon as he sees the man in question lounging around on the steps to his apartment complex, fiddling with his phone on full volume, he's hit with a sense of malaise. His neighbors may not know what the owl-like man standing in front of him looks like, but they certainly know what he _sounds_ like.

"Bokuto-san," Akaashi calls, "I hope you haven't been waiting long."

When Bokuto sees Akaashi, his hair sticks up and he springs up onto two feet. "Akaashi! Hey, hey!" he shouts, waving frantically at him. Akaashi doesn't wave in reply, peeved over the fact that Bokuto never acknowledged his comment.

Bokuto doesn't wait for him to approach before sprinting towards him, snatching the plastic takeout bag from his hands. He brings it to his nose, deeply inhaling the aromas of the boxes of Pad Thai inside.

"Aww man, this smells _delicious_! You're the best, Akaashi!" he says, face melting into bliss, "Thanks for picking this up!"

"It was nothing," Akaashi replies. It's a lie. It cost him a half-an-hour detour after his latest--and most exhausting--class of the day to pick up some subpar takeout that's probably cold by now.

"Well it means everything to me, and I think that counts for something," Bokuto says. He turns to Akaashi with a wide grin plastered on his face; it almost makes the trek worth it. "Hey, let's go up, yeah? I haven't eaten since lunch, and I need food in my system. Like, now!"

Akaashi nods. "Sure," he says, not making any effort to hide the frown on his face.

He wants nothing more than to tell Bokuto that his mind will be on other subjects by the time they reach his apartment, just like every other night they've ordered takeout after a long day. On the other hand, he doesn't want to put a damper on Bokuto's elevated mood because--if he's being honest--he rather likes it. The latter sounds like the most appealing option at the moment.

As they make their way up the stairs, Bokuto's footsteps strike the ground with a resounding _thump_ , and Akaashi is certain he can hear the stairs bounce with each step. With each story they pass, Akaashi glances at the closed doors in each hallway. He wonders which neighbor will be the next one to slip an angry note scribbled with obscenities under his door the next day.

Bokuto chatters on about how he spent forty-five minutes trying to print out a report for his boss. Akaashi tries his best to listen to Bokuto's antics, but he finds that watching the lights flicker in the stairwell is a much more productive use of his time. He almost wishes Bokuto was still in university like him; at least then he'd be able to somewhat relate to his nonsense.

Akaashi turns his focus back to Bokuto, and of course, he hasn't even noticed his attention was elsewhere.

"So I asked Shirofuku-chan to take a look at it, and you'll never guess what was wrong!"

"What, Bokuto-san?" Akaashi says without missing a beat. He knows the response will be a dumb one.

"I sent it to the wrong printer!" Bokuto lets out a loud chortle. It's a mystery how he managed to graduate university, let alone find a position as a salaryman in the first place.

Bokuto gives Akaashi a strong nudge. "Hey, why aren't you laughing?" he asks.

"It wasn't funny," Akaashi says.

"What?!" Bokuto's exclamation echoes through the stairwell, magnified when it bounces off the walls.

He looks only slightly less distressed than the time he slept through his accounting final during his second year of university. Which in all honesty, didn't matter too much in the end. It turns out if you nag and cry to your professor about your grades, day and (especially) night, he'll have a smidge of mercy on you.

Akaashi is about to tell Bokuto to keep his voice at an appropriate volume when another noise reaches his ears: the sound of a door unlocking. When he rounds the final flight of stairs and enters the hallway leading to his own apartment, he sees an unwelcome sight. One of his neighbors, an older lady with a hunched back, a crotchety face, and a scratchy voice, is carrying in a sack of groceries into her own apartment.

"Good evening!" Bokuto chirps, walking towards her. Akaashi winces before Bokuto's even opened his mouth.

The lady turns her head, and the frown that was previously on her face turns into an outright scowl. She doesn't even bother returning his greeting. "I pray your plans for tonight won't be too..." Her eyes narrow, "...too _taxing_." Akaashi can instantly tell the last words are a thinly-veiled euphemism. It's unfortunate Bokuto's not as gifted at picking up on body cues as he is.

"Not at all," Bokuto says. He lifts up the plastic bag of takeout food, waving it obnoxiously and almost pointing it at Akaashi's face. "There's only one thing on my mind right now, and it involves going to town on _this_ good stuff." He grins, nudging Akaashi sharply in the side. "Right, Akaashi? Right?"

Akaashi twitches. His neighbor looks like she's about to vomit; he almost considers breaking his lease and moving out then and there.

"The food, Kawashima-san," he says, face on fire, "He's talking about the food."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," she says, before turning around and slamming the door in their faces. Akaashi hears her voice fade away as she retreats into her own apartment, "Just keep it down, will ya? For Christ's sake..."

They stand in front of the neighbor's shut door for a minute before Bokuto pipes up. "Man, she must really hate Thai food," he says.

"Bokuto-san, she could care less about what you have for dinner," Akaashi says.

"Well that doesn't make me feel any better," Bokuto says, beginning his walk to Akaashi's door, "And what's up with her? Telling us to keep it down?" He snorts.

"She's within reason to do so."

"No way," Bokuto says, mouth contorting into some kind of frown, "What did I ever do to her?"

They've reached Akaashi's apartment, and Akaashi knows his fate is sealed as soon as he inserts the key and unlocks the door. What will happen next is going to be just another strike on his imaginary record.

"Everything," he says flatly, "You've done everything to piss her off."

\---

Bokuto pushes Akaashi down with enough force to make the bed loudly squeak, pressing their mouths together in an inevitable kiss. He nips at Akaashi's lips until they part, then slips his tongue inside.

The Thai food that Bokuto had been gushing over has been long abandoned at the foot of the front door, scrapped almost instantaneously in exchange for something much more satiating. _It's almost like a Pavlonian response_ , Akaashi thinks; the switch from hungry to horny was eerily appropriate for someone as unpredictable as Bokuto. On the other hand, it's partially his own fault for giving into Bokuto's advances as soon as they passed into a private space. Akaashi dismisses his own thoughts, instead savoring the feeling of Bokuto's tongue against his, exploring the insides of his mouth frantically, but agonizingly slow at the same time.

Akaashi runs a hand through Bokuto's hair, pushing his head down so that their lips remain locked. His other hand is fumbling with Bokuto's improperly tied tie, pulling it loose until it's a lost remnant at the top of the bed. With the tie out of the way, Akaashi makes quick work of the buttons on Bokuto's shirt, unbuttoning each of them one by one with seasoned dexterity. It's a product of experience, from countless other nights like this since Bokuto became a member of the working world.

Bokuto grinds their hips together; Akaashi gasps at the delicious friction, and Bokuto uses the opportunity to bring their lips apart. "Someone's impatient tonight," he teases.

"I wasn't the one who started it," Akaashi says, knowing full-well his words are in direct opposition to his actions. He shuts his eyes and groans when Bokuto's teeth are back at the side of his neck, lightly nipping at it.

"Eh, who cares about that," Bokuto says in between bites. He continues his assault on Akaashi's neck, kissing and sucking until Akaashi is begging him for more. He brings his hands around the hem of Akaashi's T-shirt, lifting it up with little resistance. Almost immediately, he trails his tongue lower and lower, past his chest, around each of his nipples, then down the length of his stomach and into sensitive territory, until Akaashi is writhing underneath his touch.

Before long, their clothes are in a discarded pile at the base of the bed. With the extra fabric out of the way, every touch, every stroke is amplified in intensity, and Akaashi finds himself getting impatient. He wraps his hand around both of their now-hardened cocks, and moans when he begins to stroke them firmly. Bokuto lets out an ear-shattering groan that's made him so infamous in this apartment complex, bringing his own hand on top of Akaashi's and moving them even more quickly. Akaashi would've scolded him if he wasn't caught up in his own bout of pleasure.

As good as having Bokuto's hand on his cock feels, though, it's not enough for Akaashi.

"Ah," he says in between pants, "The lube. Please."

Bokuto doesn't need any further direction because he instantly reaches towards the second to last drawer of Akaashi's dresser for the bottle of lube and box of condoms hidden underneath a layer of folded socks. He tosses them over to Akaashi, who opens them and motions for Bokuto's hands. He squirts a generous helping of lube onto Bokuto's palms and spreads it across his fingers himself.

"Hey, that's kinda hot," Bokuto says offhandedly.

"You never use enough," Akaashi replies, continuing to half-massage Bokuto's fingers, "Please do it right for once."

"Aye aye," Bokuto says. He pushes Akaashi onto his back and hoists up his legs. He gives Akaashi a small, but devious grin, then slips a long finger inside him.

Akaashi winces at the new sensation, even though they've done it so many times. He has to mentally tell himself to relax, let loose, and allow Bokuto to work his magic on him that Akaashi knows he'll deliver. Before long, Bokuto has slipped in two, then three fingers, scissoring and stretching out his insides. They brush against the spot that makes Akaashi's toes curl, and not even a second later, Akaashi begins making noises that definitely won't go unnoticed.

"A-ah!" he shouts. The feeling is amazing. It makes his head thrash about, his hips buckle, and brings him dangerously close to the edge. He lets out little cries of pleasure as Bokuto's pace quickens, frantically grinding against Bokuto's touch, more and more, until--

He hears laughter--the crotchety old woman from earlier, he presumes--on the other side of the paper-thin walls of his small apartment. Akaashi's orgasm slips away from him as the heat in his stomach is replaced with a much more unpleasant feeling.

Bokuto's fingers stop moving, and he furrows his brow. "Huh? Something wrong?" he asks.

The haze that comes with having sex isn't enough for Akaashi to ignore his neighbor's glares from earlier. Her scowl, her scathing words, and especially her looks of disgust are all boring holes into his mind. He doesn't know why it's affecting him tonight out of all nights. It's most likely, he decides, because of Bokuto and his loud mouth. He notes that he'll have to watch what they say from now on if he doesn't want to make a fool out of himself again.

"Bokuto-san, let me take the lead today," Akaashi says. He guides Bokuto's wrist away from him, slipping the slick fingers out of him. He pushes himself up with his elbows, then grabs a half-opened condom sitting at the side of the bed and lubes it up.

"Lie down," he orders.

Bokuto obliges, humming as he lays back with his hands behind his head. He's rock hard by this point, and Akaashi has no trouble slipping the condom onto Bokuto's cock.

"You make too much noise during sex," Akaashi says, "The neighbors are starting to notice."

"That old lady?" Bokuto asks, raising an eyebrow, "You've never been the one to be concerned about these kind of things."

"And you're not the one living here," Akaashi replies.

Bokuto laughs. "True, true."

Akaashi puts a leg at each side of Bokuto and places his hands on Bokuto's chest to leverage himself. He positions himself so that he's only inches above Bokuto's cock, then looks at him with what he hopes are deadpan eyes.

"Please be quiet tonight," he says, face beginning to flush red, "Promise me that and I'll let you fuck me."

Heat begins to color Bokuto's cheeks, and he leads his hands down to Akaashi's hips, lightly cupping his ass with grabby fingers. "Anything for you, babe," he says.

"So you'll do it?" Akaashi asks, ignoring Bokuto's sweet talk. He isn't entirely convinced Bokuto has fully comprehended his request. If he had to guess (not that he needs to), he would say that Bokuto is still thinking with his dick, and not his head like he would hope.

Bokuto again chuckles lightly. "No guarantees, but I'll give it my best shot."

Akaashi feels his patience being tested. Not just because Bokuto is probably failing to comply with him, but because Bokuto's cock should've been in his ass minutes ago. Bokuto could be balls-deep in him right now, striking the spot that makes him writhe, see stars, and cry out for the mercy of gods that don't even exist. But at the same time, Akaashi is determined not to embarrass himself tonight, as well. He can feel the all-too-familiar heat building inside him once again, and he can't wait even a minute longer to satisfy it.

"Thirty seconds," he says. Akaashi lowers himself so that Bokuto's cock is just barely grazing his slick entrance. It takes all of his willpower not to penetrate himself then and there. "Stay quiet for thirty seconds, and we can get on with this. Please tell me you can accomplish at least that."

Bokuto shuts his eyes and groans at the contact, weakly nodding his head once he's come back to his senses.

The countdown feels longer than it should. Akaashi keeps himself touching the tip of Bokuto's cock in fear that he'll envelop it completely if he so much as moves. And with Bokuto not voicing any distractions in his ear, ten seconds feels more like ten minutes. Akaashi can feel his breath growing more ragged by the second. He focuses on Bokuto's chest so that he doesn't have to face him in his bothered state. If he did, all of his restraint would probably dissipate into thin air.

"Halfway there," he says. For a brief moment, his mind betrays him and he lowers his hips, taking in the head of Bokuto's dick ever so slightly inside him. Bokuto lets out a gasp, and Akaashi resists the urge to groan, as well.

" _Holy shit._ " Bokuto yelps at the contact, only lowering his voice to a whisper when Akaashi gives him a pointed glare. "Akaashi, what the fuck," he says, still shakily.

"Restrain yourself, Bokuto-san," Akaashi replies, voice just as unsteady.

Akaashi's self-control escapes him once again, and his gaze turns up to Bokuto's face. Bokuto's eyes are shut tight, his teeth are gritted, and his hold on Akaashi's ass is tightening by the second. He looks like he's about to come and he hasn't even entered him yet. And when he does, the noises he's been holding in will come bursting out even louder than before. With the way things are going, Akaashi already knows he can expect an angry note under the door the next morning, shaming him for the events that are about to happen.

He spots Bokuto's tie, hanging off the edge of the bed right above Bokuto left shoulder. He outstretches his arms and grabs it with the tips his fingers, then brings it to Bokuto's face, using both of his hands to press it tight against his lips. He wraps it around Bokuto's head, effectively muffling his speech, and tightly knots it in the back. Akaashi feels his own dick tighten at the sight, his ass pushing even deeper against Bokuto's cock. He can only barely hear Bokuto's groans through the fabric.

"Akaashi--"

Before Bokuto has the chance to protest, Akaashi lowers himself completely, taking him in up to the hilt. He throws his head back and lets out a breathy moan, probably louder than he should've. He doesn't care at this point; the only thing on his mind is being fucked long and hard.

Akaashi goes slowly at first, raising and lowering himself on Bokuto's cock at a less-than-desirable pace. He needs time to adjust to the sensation of being filled to the brim, to get used to the discomfort. At the same time, though, he tries to find the magic angle that will make this all worth it, changing his position with each thrust down. It doesn't take him long to find it. When Bokuto strikes him _just_ right, Akaashi slaps a hand to his mouth, trying to stifle the groan escaping from his lips.

Bokuto looks up at him with half-lidded eyes; Akaashi isn't the only one feeling it. "You enjoying yourself there, buddy?" he says, voice muffled by the fabric.

"I would if you started moving," Akaashi says, eyes just as glazed over.

Bokuto jerks his hips up, and Akaashi shuts his eyes and arches his back, groaning through his teeth.

"Like that?" Bokuto asks. Akaashi can't see his facial expression underneath the tie, but he knows it involves a wide grin, teeth and all.

He tries to nod his head, but it comes out as a sudden jerk more than anything. "Yes--" Akaashi's thoughts are cut short when Bokuto delivers another perfectly-placed thrust, "--Ah! Oh, god! Yes!"

The bed squeaks as they work up a rhythm, Bokuto thrusting up while Akaashi forces himself down on him, meeting him halfway. Every thrust has Akaashi's eyes rolling into the back of his head, body thrashing, and mouth betraying him with gasps of pleasure.

"Fuck, you're so good, Akaashi," Bokuto pants. His fingernails are forming crescents in Akaashi's sides because he's gripping his hips so hard. He uses his hands to slam Akaashi down onto him with that extra bit of force he needs. "Ah, so good."

The makeshift gag is only working marginally well. Even though the tie is still firmly wrapped around Bokuto's mouth, Akaashi can still hear Bokuto's words with clarity, the slight damper in his voice making him hotter by the second. Part of the reason is because Bokuto's voice is just too loud to be contained by a flimsy piece of fabric. The other reason is because Akaashi can't distinguish who the moans are even coming from anymore, as he begins his own descent into ecstasy.

Akaashi looks down at Bokuto, and his eyes are half-lidded and even hazier than his. He brings his face closer to his, and he can feel Bokuto's breath, hot and sticky on his lips, even through the fabric. There's drool dripping from the bottom of the tie at the corner of Bokuto's mouth. Akaashi wants to see his full expression for himself in all its glory.

Bokuto is apparently thinking the same thing because he removes a hand from Akaashi's hips and uses it to caress his cheek. "Akaashi, let me kiss you," he says in between ragged breaths.

Bokuto lifts his head slightly, and Akaashi's hands rush to the back of Bokuto's head to remove the tie that has become nothing but a nuisance now. He struggles to undo it with shaky fingers, not stopping his thrusts on Bokuto's cock, and yanks the tie down when that fails. Akaashi brings his hands to Bokuto's cheeks and wastes no time in pressing their lips together, hungry for contact.

The kiss is hot, messy, and just the way Akaashi likes it. He makes strangled noises as Bokuto probes his mouth, and he probes Bokuto's mouth in return. These turn into full blown groans when Bokuto brings his free hand around Akaashi's dick, stroking it roughly and firmly, smearing the precum that's formed there all over his fingers. Akaashi has completely lost himself, and he's almost certain Bokuto has too.

"Bokuto-san! Ah, fuck!" he cries.                                                                                      

Akaashi buries his face into the nape of Bokuto's neck and sinks his teeth into Bokuto's skin, trying to restrain the pitiful noises he's making in vain. Every thrust and stroke send him closer and closer to the edge. His pants and gasps are getting louder and louder, but he is long gone by this point.

Bokuto brushes his lips against Akaashi's ear. "You getting close?" he whispers.

"Yes," Akaashi pants. Bokuto slams into him, and Akaashi screams. "Oh shit, yes, I'm so close." He can no longer control the flow of words coming from his lips. "Bokuto-san, please!" he cries out.

With a few more fast thrusts, Akaashi loses sight of the world around him. He lets out a string of incoherent expletives, his knees buckle, and soon he's collapsing onto Bokuto in a mess of tangled limbs. Bokuto gives one last thrust before he's coming as well, much less loudly, but just as hard as Akaashi.

It takes Akaashi a minute to come back to his senses, heart slowing and breath calming, He barely has enough energy to move, let alone stay awake, so he remains on top of Bokuto and rests his head on his chest.

"Mm, you were amazing tonight," Bokuto hums, tracing lines down Akaashi's back.

"Only because you can't contain yourself," Akaashi replies. He tries not to think about his own behavior, thrashing, and scratching, and moaning Bokuto's name for the world to hear. It's a futile attempt; his ears go red at the memory of it all.

Bokuto lets out a hearty laugh, and Akaashi feels himself growing redder. "YOU were the one who needed some self control! Did you hear yourself?!"

Akaashi snorts. "I was not--"

They hear banging on the other side of the wall. "I told you to be quiet!" the voice from the other side shrieks, "None of us want to hear your goddamn fucking!" Her scathing words are followed shortly by grumbling about no-for-good, horny college kids.

Bokuto erupts into even louder laughter, and Akaashi can visualize his dignity flushing down the drain. He buries his face even deeper into Bokuto's chest because he can't bring himself to admit that, just this once, maybe Bokuto is in the right. His neighbors may hate Bokuto for his obscene noises, but in all honesty, Akaashi is just as bad.

\---

When Akaashi retrieves the abandoned takeout food by the front door, he finds a hastily folded note next to it, probably slipped underneath the door. Without a doubt, it's from one of his other neighbors who didn't have the nerve to yell at them in person. Or maybe it's from the landlord herself, delivering a complaint that the neighbors didn't want to write themselves.

"Akaaaaashi!" Bokuto calls from the kitchen, "Hurry up, will ya? I'm hungry!"

Akaashi contemplates showing Bokuto the note. He _could_ have a quick laugh about it before forgetting about it instantly. On the other hand, his mood could take a downswing because it's probable--no, almost certain--that he has no idea his neighbors think he (technically _they_ , Akaashi sighs) could be Satan incarnate.

He decides against it. He picks up the note and tosses it into the trash before rejoining Bokuto in the kitchen.

**Author's Note:**

> UGH I CAN'T BELIEVE I WROTE A SMUT. I am _blushing_
> 
> [tumblr](http://courtto.tumblr.com/)


End file.
